


Cold and Getting Colder

by h0n3yb33_com



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Be prepared for those tags to def get changed and updated bc I am a f o o l, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27932269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0n3yb33_com/pseuds/h0n3yb33_com
Summary: Tubbowasrunning.The nineteen-year-old boy was running through a blizzard, legs buried in knee-deep snow. He didn’t know how long he had been running already- but he had been running long enough for the sun to go from pretty high in the sky to almost fully set, and to be nearly frozen to death- or how long he would be running from now, seeing as he was running to a place that may or may not exist, no one had never come back from it at least. Tubbo, for sure, knew two things. First: if he stopped, his third- and final- death would be among him sooner since he was already getting frostbite and bleeding out from an arrow lodged in his side. Second: Tubbo knew the place he was attempting to run to.The Antarctic Empire.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Floris | Fundy & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Niki | Nihachu & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 11
Kudos: 128





	Cold and Getting Colder

Tubbo

was

**running**.

The nineteen-year-old boy was running through a blizzard, legs buried in knee-deep snow. He didn’t know how long he had been running already- but he had been running long enough for the sun to go from pretty high in the sky to almost fully set, and to be nearly frozen to death- or how long he would be running from now, seeing as he was running to a place that may or may not exist, no one had never come back from it at least. Tubbo, for sure, knew two things. First: if he stopped, his third- and final- death would be among him sooner since he was already getting frostbite and bleeding out from an arrow lodged in his side. Second: Tubbo knew the place he was attempting to run to.

The Antarctic Empire.

A common myth among L’Manburg, and the place where his entire family was rumored to be living.

Tubbo sighed. He hadn’t seen any of them in months. The last of them, Fundy and Niki, had left 8 months back- or 9? Maybe even longer… the time had all melted together. All of them had left him for his mistakes, and Tubbo was unable to feel upset about their abandonments. Tubbo had deserved to be all alone, for all the horrid things he had done.

What was the reason Tubbo was going to people who- ( _fairly_ , he made sure to note in his head)- hated his guts? Simple; he had nowhere else to go. He was running, running, running to ask for food, shelter, help, and forgiveness.

Forgiveness for allowing Schlatt to hurt everyone for longer than he should’ve been able to.  
Forgiveness for leading a government, which knew was against some of his family’s values.

Forgiveness for exiling his brother- his **best friend**.  
Forgiveness for being a shitty friend.

Forgiveness for being a shitty uncle

Forgiveness for being a shitty son.

Forgiveness for being a shitty brother.

Forgiveness for being **himself**.

Even though Tubbo didn’t deserve their forgiveness.

But, at this point, where he was and what had happened, the ex-president didn’t have much of a choice. His whole cabinet had turned against him.

Ranboo, the Secretary of State, had been easily manipulated by Dream to be against Tubbo, seeing as Ranboo had a bad memory that was easily melded by Dream to be whatever he wanted it to be and Ranboo was just a child, younger than Tubbo. Both Karl and Quackity, Treasury of State and Vice President respectively, had been turned against Tubbo- with little persuasion- by their fiancé, Sapnap.

(Tubbo mentally slapped himself. He should’ve never trusted fools who were too close to the opposing side against their better judgement.)

In a set-up by Dream, there had been a cabinet meeting called by Quackity, where the cabinet met in the hotdog van. Unknown to Tubbo, outside of each of the windows there had been a powerful member of the DreamSMP; Dream, George, Sapnap, and Punz. The meeting had seemed normal for a bit, but when Ranboo had drawn his crossbow and shot Tubbo square in the side with an arrow of poison, he instantly knew it had been a setup.  
A setup to take Tubbo’s final life.

Tubbo gripped his side, grunting in pain. The memory made the arrow, still sticking out of him, surge in pain again. That's what arrows of poison did, brought you down to your worst and hurt you extra when you remembered, or any time you were reminded. Tubbo would argue they were the most painful enchantment you could put on arrows.

(As Tubbo watched blood drip off the arrow, crimson falling onto clean white, he stumbled in the snow, nearly losing his balance and falling. It was the first time in minutes he realized how… cold. He felt. Tubbo shivered.)

After Ranboo shot, the windows opened and there was open fire from all sides, which thankfully Tubbo had avoided, and was able to flee while they all reloaded their crossbows. He left with no food, none of his weapons or armor, and none of his possessions.

_Well,_ Tubbo thought, reaching into his pouch that contained his one and only possession, the one thing he dared to care about,

_except one._

He pulled out Mellohi, Tommy’s disc he was given two years back as a relic of their friendship. Tubbo watched the water- a tear. He hadn’t even realized he was crying- drip onto the disc. He breathed in a stuttering breath before once again getting lost in thought. Tubbo had led everyone to believe he had broken the disc long ago. But he was never able to bring himself to do it. The disc had stayed safe in his ender chest for two years, and before he fled, Tubbo had made sure to grab it.

For Tommy.

Tubbo sniffled. Even if Tommy didn’t forgive him, his brother deserved to have his disc back in his possession.

It couldn’t be a relic of friendship when there was no longer a friendship to speak of.  
Tubbo put the disc back, securely, in the pouch, and patted the pouch when it was closed.

This had all led the part moobloom-boy to where he was, up in the mountains-

For a moment, Tubbo allowed himself to look around at the scene and the sky. The sun was setting, casting the sky in deep reds and dark pinkish-purples. The sky shone over the snow-covered mountains, illuminating the white in a pretty light purple, except for the crimson blood and bright yellow flowers that followed in Tubbo’s wake. Bright white stars started to speck over the sky near the horizon line. He let out a breath, one he had been holding in too long, white fog escaping from his mouth and twisting towards the sky.

In a perfect reality, Tubbo would be able to forget about everything and just stare at the sunset, peacefully letting his worries wisp away into nothingness.

But, this reality wasn’t perfect.

And Tubbo was freezing, starving…

and alone.

With nothing else to think about but searing pain and icy cold, he started thinking of everything that had happened over the past two years, since November 16, 2020.

Before escaping to his mind, he let out a bitter laugh. What a cruel reminder of time for it to be that exact date two years later, November 16, 2022.

Wilbur had technically left him first, on that very day.

The real Wilbur, anyway. Not the ghost of him.

Wilbur had made Tubbo president, then blown up L’Manburg.

He had made Tubbo president of a crater.

Tubbo reached up and grabbed his horns, pulling them down along with his head,

(which, he noted, were growing longer. Maybe he was becoming more like Schlatt. The memory of Schlatt- and all the bad that man had done- lingered on his tongue like rotten food.)

partly out of anger and partly because he just needed to _feel_ something in his hands.

Then Dad killed Wilbur, and he was gone with no goodbye. This was the only one where the ‘no goodbye’ wasn’t a choice.

Dad and Technoblade, his oldest brother, had been the actual first to leave him. On the same day Wilbur had died. Two traitors, two anarchists, but Tubbo couldn’t say he didn’t miss them. After killing Wilbur, the middle brother, taking his last life and setting withers to blow everything up more than it already was, the two left Tommy and Tubbo without a goodbye.

Maybe it was Tubbo’s fault.

He knew of their stances; they hated the government, and Tubbo was the leader of one.

_Gods-_ Tubbo yanked on his horns again, hurting his neck- _it’s my fault. I knew that they hate the government, and I still accepted to lead one. My fault._

But, regardless of what had been Tubbo’s fault or not, Dad and Techno vanished off into the mountains- the same mountains he was trekking through- without a goodbye. Without a hug or a wave.

Tubbo couldn’t say he was mad at them.

According to a two-year-old rumor- no one could confirm, seeing as no one had ever heard from either of the men again- they had started the Antarctic Empire as far from the civilization of L’Manburg and the DreamSMP as they could manage, leaving their family in the dust.

Then, second went Tommy a month later.

He was the departure that had hurt Tubbo the most.

All the L’Manburg citizens had made a vote-

(a vote his hand was forced to conduct-)  
to rid L’Manburg of Tommy for his crimes, which consisted of burning down the house of and stealing from the king of the DreamSMP, George. Crimes that caused Dream to build a wall of obsidian around L’Manburg. Tubbo didn’t want to exile Tommy, and never in a million years would he have exiled his Vice President if the choice was up to him. He didn’t want his best friend and closest brother to be gone, exiled, most likely never to be heard from again. But Tubbo had to take care of the country he was in charge of. His country.

**Their** country.

After Tommy’s exile-

which Tubbo didn’t get, nor deserve, a goodbye from-

the ghost of Wilbur followed the mooshroom-boy out into the mountains, both of them, according to rumor, on their way to find the Antarctic Empire and seek shelter within it.

(Just like how Tubbo was doing now.)

Tubbo would never be able to forgive himself for leaving his and Tommy’s friendship- and brotherhood- on a bad note.

Never.  
  
Quackity was appointed to Tommy’s spot when Tommy was gone.

After Tommy and the ghost of Wilbur leaving, Tubbo stuck extra close to what was left of his family. Niki, Wilbur’s wife, and Fundy, his nephew, were all he had left to fully trust. And they stuck by his side, the Treasury and Secretary of State respectively. (Gods, did Tubbo miss them.)

Until Tubbo made a mistake.

One particularly stressful night, where Dream had been threatening war, Tubbo had yelled at Niki and Fundy to “ _Get out.”_

And they listened, vanishing that night as all the rest of his family had before, up into the mountains.

Tubbo had watched as they disappeared over the horizon that night and started sobbing when he realized where they had been heading, and what a mistake he had made-  
(just like Tubbo was doing in the current moment, though he was too numb to the world and too lost in thought to notice.)

Then, he was all alone.

He appointed Ranboo in Niki’s absence and promoted Karl to Fundy’s spot, which inevitably led to his attempted assassination and downfall a year later.

As Tubbo’s vision started to fade in and out and he felt sicker than before and he could feel himself tipping backward onto the soft snow, he heard two familiar voices calling out to him- calling out his _name_ to him- and a flash of ice blue in the distance in front of him.

Then,

it

all

went

**black.**

**——————————  
  
**

Tubbo groggily opened his eyes, bringing his aching (and burning?) hand up to rub his forehead. He groaned, slowly stretching out his arms. Once he came to his senses, he instantly felt like he was on fire.

He had a headache- most likely a fever, with how sickly he felt- alongside the still-searing pain of the poison arrow in his side, though it was removed and bandaged up.

(Tubbo mentally thanked whoever had saved him for cleaning his wound and removing the arrow, and made a mental note to thank whoever walked in next.)

As he moved his fingers, which were very stiff and had blisters dotting them, he felt a boiling pain from mostly his and toes, though the pain was more docile everywhere else.

_Frostbite,_ he instantly knew. He remembered this feeling from when he was a child and had gotten the same thing from playing in the snow far too long with his brothers. Dad had had to force-feed him a healing potion so he didn’t die from how bad the blisters had gotten.

Tubbo sighed. He missed his family.

The brunette groaned again and sat up, taking a look around the spruce house. He was sitting on a thin mattress with a very, very thick white fur blanket, a pattern of snowflakes across the top and bottom. Tubbo tossed the blanket off of himself. He already felt on fire, and he didn’t need extra heat. He noticed there were yellow flowers on the bed, he assumed from his hair.

He changed his attention to the walls of the hut, lined with pure white fur, with a design of light-blue snowflakes (Tubbo assumed the fur was to keep the heat in) but he could see some spruce wood peeking through the fur. The wall behind him was stone, probably the side of some mountain this hut was built against. Looking up at the ceiling, he could see it was made of spruce wood. Lanterns hung from chains off the ceiling, soul lanterns, the flames glowed a beautiful blue. There was no installed flooring, just the cold grass. Tubbo noted that all the snow had been cleared out of the inside, but he could see from the slightly opened (beautifully carved with a pattern of like fire) spruce door that the snow was piled up outside. He had a thought that maybe the snow had melted, instead of being cleared.

Tubbo continued looking around, this time looking at all the furniture. There were 3 other cots, all looking the exact same as the one he was sitting on, blanket and all. The only difference was how two of the blankets had the opposite color scheme, light blue with white patterning. Next, he saw a spruce table, legs carved with intricate patterns of flames and fire, a similar pattern to the door. The table was long and Tubbo could see multiple things on it- tall candles, light blue, (everything here seemed to be light blue or white, that is, if it wasn’t made of the dark spruce wood) and burning. One of the candles, Tubbo saw, had a few nails in the side of it, all evenly spaced apart. The candle was very close to being burnt down to the first nail. He was also sure he saw a few books scattered across the table, the covers of the books light blue and white, just like everything else in this little hut, and besides that were a few brewing stands, one of which was loaded with full glowing red potions, the only thing that wasn’t white, light blue, or spruce in this room. The last thing Tubbo noticed was his pouch. He reached up and snatched it, releasing a breath of relief when he saw Mellohi was still there, safe and sound. On the side of the room opposite of him, he saw chairs carved with the same pattern the table legs had. Tubbo was impressed with whoever had carved the wood, it was beautiful.

The next thing he bothered thinking about was where he was, which he started off by thinking about where he was before he fainted and what he must’ve been looking for. He remembered trudging through snow up in the mountains at night. Looking through the slightly opened door, he could see he was definitely still in the mountains,

(if that wasn’t already confirmed by the rocky back wall he was sitting against)

judging by all the snow piled up outside the entrance, all seemingly fresh.

_…Why was I in the mountains, of all places?_ The moobloom-boy couldn’t seem to remember what had happened. His head was very fuzzy, due to a terrible mixture of confusion and a pounding headache. He grabbed onto his horns, trying to conjure up any of his memories, but it hurt too much to think correctly. It didn’t hurt, though, to observe the things around him.  
So, Tubbo settled for observing.

He looked outside the door, seeing a lighter snowfall from the blizzard he last remembered. The nineteen-year-old noticed the sky, the orange sun coming over the horizon, painting the sky in a gradient from orange at the horizon line to a dark blue-purple at the top of the sky, with stars still visible, telling him it was pretty early in the morning. This meant he had been out for at least a night.

_At least._

Tubbo quietly hoped he had been out no more than a night.

Switching his attention to noises, just outside the wall to his left, he could hear hushed whispering between two voices, both clearly of adults. The voices were slightly muffled from the snowfall- and most likely the fur on the walls. The voices were one of a man, his voice on the deeper side, and one of a woman, her’s was a lot softer than the man’s. Tubbo couldn’t make out any of their words, or what their accents were.

With no other observations he could think to make, Tubbo just sat in the cot. He still felt like he was on fire, and his fingertips and toes were only getting worse. So, to feel less warm, he tugged off his boots and put them neatly next to the cot, and stuffing his socks inside to keep them warm. Then, he rolled up his sleeves and pant legs. He didn’t feel much cooler, but it would suffice. All of this had been done as silently as Tubbo could manage, as to not disturb the people talking outside the building, the people who had most likely brought him there and saved his life. So, Tubbo didn’t say a word and just waited for someone to come and check in on him.

After not even five minutes of sitting still and staring at the fur patterns on the wall, listening to the hushed chattering of the two voices outside, he heard a nail drop. The loud sound made him feel like he jumped out of his skin, startling him. He realized what the candle was for- it was a timer! The nail was like an alarm clock, and Tubbo felt a bit stupid for not realizing it sooner.

This was the first time he was able to make out any of the words the two people had said: “Ah, time to check up on Tubbo.”

It was the man's voice, deep and his accent was British- and how did they know his name? Tubbo didn’t think he had any identification on him-

After a second, it clicked as the last memories he had came, and Tubbo gasped, his hand flying over his mouth and eyes widening.

It was **Wilbur**! Tubbo had been looking for the Antarctic Empire!

And he had **made it**!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this! I've had this in the works for at least 3 days, and I'm excited to share and update it!


End file.
